


let it go.

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Asexual Character, Canon Universe, Exhibitionism, M/M, Phone Sex, Romance, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2019-01-15 17:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Nothing is as good as his imagination.





	let it go.

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je-fqf spring fling 2014 and trope-bingo (coming out [of the closet]).

Most of the time, he’s not even there. At least physically—corporeally?—it’s usually someone else, sometimes with someone else, but he’s not involved. Not participating, not watching, not even a hint of self that would make it a proper fantasy, or at least what he’s learned to be the norm from growing up with a bunch of guys who seem to believe that anything involving their dicks is a matter of public discussion.

  
Inoo would probably think that the rest of them are freaks instead of him, but he doesn’t stop to think about it too much. At the very least, the others are too caught up in their own sexual discoveries to spare a thought to his, helped along by Inoo himself and his unapologetic quest for details. He’s as inappropriate and forward as the rest of them, but if any of them have noticed that he focuses more on their exploits than his own, they’ve never confronted him about it.  
  
It’s their exploits that get him off harder than any time another person has actually been involved, anyway. His imagination is good enough on its own, but it’s even better when it’s based on reality. The closest he’s come to finding any kind of common ground is ironically with their fans, who make up these stories on the Internet that coincide with Inoo’s tastes more than anything has before. They were like fantasies he didn’t have to conjure himself, and even the ones involving him were enjoyable.   
  
And then they ended. Unlike real life, fantasies and fanfiction endings just mean that new ones will begin. There are no hurt feelings and no drama. Inoo comes into his own hand as the picture behind his eyes disappears like someone turned off the TV set. The next time he feels the urge, a new one plays. It’s a continuous cycle of incontinuity and it’s all Inoo knows to be sexual, because the few times he’s done it for real have left him feeling really awkward and a little guilty for having zero interest in anything but his own pleasure.   
  
Because nothing is as good as his imagination. Even watching porn doesn’t do it for him; he’s tried. He’s tried everything that his friends have unknowingly suggested to enjoy being with another person, but it’s become more effort than it’s worth. At twenty-three years old, he’s pretty sure he’s settled in his ways, whatever those may be. He can’t even like someone else because inevitably it will lead to that uncomfortable situation and a conversation Inoo doesn’t know how to have. How can he explain it to anyone else when he doesn’t understand it himself?   
  
It’s easier—and more satisfying—to just to be alone. His group is affectionate enough anyway, so it’s not like he’s attention-starved or anything. And he’s long since stopped feeling guilty about his fantasies involving the other members, especially since they fuel them so willingly. If Yabu didn’t want Inoo to think about him being ridden by an older woman, he shouldn’t brag about his visits to cougar town. In a way, Inoo is luckier than the fangirls because he has insider information that they will never know, but there’s still that pressure to find someone for himself, to enjoy dating and romance and sex like everyone else, even if he’s long since accepted that it’s not possible.  
  
He’d like to know that there’s someone else in this big world that feels the same way he does, because even the fangirls seem to have functioning relationships, or at least want to. Collectively they yearn for this physical closeness that suffocates Inoo just to think about, makes his skin crawl just to imagine someone touching him all the time when he can’t control it in his mind. At the same time, touching someone else doesn’t do anything for him, so there’s really no point in any of it.   
  
It makes him feel lazy and selfish and basically like a heartless human being, so he just doesn’t think about it. Whenever anybody—usually his mother—asks about it, he just shrugs and says he’s not ready to settle down. He focusing on school/his career. He’s picky about who he lets into his life, which is technically true. He’s so evasive normally that nobody really thinks much of it, just goes back to their own business and leaves Inoo with his. Inoo’s the most emotionally stable person anyone knows, so who are they to question his decisions? Yamada himself once said that he wishes he were as cool and put-together as Inoo.   
  
Ironically Yamada is the biggest star of Inoo’s fantasies. It’s ironic because Yamada is incredibly dependent and so clingy with people he likes that Inoo gets turned off just thinking about being with him at all, but he makes it so easy for Inoo to pretend. Those hips rolling against another pair, sometimes Yuuto, sometimes Keito, sometimes Yamada’s ex-girlfriend Mariya whom Inoo walked in on once on her knees in front of Yamada and never ever erased from his memory. Yamada’s voice, exhausted sighs or grunts while exercising that triggers something deep inside Inoo that doesn’t go away until he can be alone with it.  
  
Sometimes Inoo calls Yamada just to wake him up, to hear that groggy whine that becomes a moan after echoing in Inoo’s head for a while. Usually Yamada doesn’t even remember the calls, or if he does he just chalks it up to Inoo being Inoo who does weird pranks for no reason. It matches with the characterization everyone has for him, anyway. Even if he’s secretly amused that they think he’s just always making a smug face when he’s in a constant state of fantasy about one or more of them in some sort of sexual contortion.   
  
At any rate, it’s been long enough that it doesn’t really bother him anymore, and the other members have put up with it so long that it genuinely confuses him when Hikaru calls out of the clear blue sky and asks him about it point-blank.  
  
“Is it that you don’t like anyone? Because that’s okay too.”  
  
“It is?” Inoo asks before his defense mechanisms can kick in. He was going to ignore it, or blow it off, or even lie, but Hikaru had given him something he hasn’t had before—acceptance.   
  
“I’ve spent a long time trying to figure you out,” Hikaru says, and Inoo snorts out loud because that makes two of them. “I read some stuff on the Internet but I don’t want to make assumptions. I want you to tell me what it’s like.”  
  
“Why?” Inoo asks.  _Why do you care?_  
  
He can almost hear Hikaru shrugging on the other end of the line, and just like that his imagination takes over. He can see Hikaru now, lounging in bed with his cell phone precariously balanced between his ear and shoulder, hands free to do whatever he wants to do with them. In Inoo’s mind, he’s just playing with his fingers, because Hikaru’s fingers are pornographic on their own and Inoo can’t watch him play the bass without getting that same feeling he gets with Yamada’s voice.  
  
“Because I think I can help you out,” Hikaru tells him, and Inoo swells with hope. “Because, you see, I like to tell stories.”  
  
Inoo bites his lip. “What kind of stories?”  
  
“The kind you read about on the Internet, only interactive.” Hikaru gives a low chuckle that goes right between Inoo’s legs. “You should clear your browser history before you lend someone your laptop, you know.”  
  
“Maybe I wanted you to see it,” Inoo rebounds without pause. “It’s no worse than your arsenal of freaky porn.”  
  
“We’re alike, you and me,” Hikaru says. “And lucky for you, we complement each other.”  
  
“What do you—” Inoo starts to ask, but Hikaru’s already begun his narrative.  
  
“So, Yabu, you know? We had a thing once. Well, sort of. We were both too young to have any idea what we were even doing, but it felt good. Is this okay? I can change it up if you want.”  
  
“Older,” Inoo replies, stretching out in his own bed and getting comfortable. “Not Yabu.”  
  
“Not feeling that right now, huh?” Hikaru asks, though he doesn’t seem to require an answer as he his keeps talking. “You have to help me out here. Your searched pairings were all over the place.”  
  
“Keito,” Inoo decides on the spot, because Hikaru being dominant like this just makes him think of Keito being passive and his body wholly approves of this segue.  
  
“Oh, this is going to be more fun than I anticipated,” Hikaru says, his voice echoing his words as he sounds almost giddy at his new imaginary partner. “Personally I like when he speaks English, even though I have no idea what the fuck he’s saying. How about you?”  
  
“Yes,” Inoo forces out, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he could tell Hikaru his filthy thoughts telepathically, because speaking them out loud is almost ruining this for him.  
  
“Can you be quiet?” Hikaru asks then, and Inoo grins as he makes a noise of both affirmation and relief. “Okay, don’t say a word.”  
  
Inoo’s heart races as Hikaru puts him on hold, then another phone is ringing. He can’t even breathe, let alone say anything, but he presses the ‘mute’ button anyway, just to be sure.   
  
“Hikaru,” Keito answers, sounding surprised. “What’s wro—?”  
  
“Are you alone?” Hikaru cuts him off, making both Inoo and Keito gasp.  
  
“I…hold on.” The line goes muffled while Keito says something to someone, followed by some moving around and his next words are so low they’re practically dripping with sex. “I am now.”  
  
“Talk English to me,” Hikaru demands. “In that tone you’re using right now.”  
  
If Keito finds this situation at all strange, he doesn’t spend any time dwelling on it before launching into a narrative of his own, filled with foreign words in that unique British accent mixed with American influence that has Inoo’s hand in his pants before Keito even takes a breath.   
  
A shrill moan has Inoo shuddering uncontrollably, fearing that everyone can hear him even though he  _knows_  he’s muted, but the noise didn’t come from him. It’s Hikaru, who continues shamelessly at every pause in Keito’s monologue, which becomes deeper and filthier with each sentence. Inoo only knows the dirty words in English, so it’s bad when he starts understanding it, his own whines slipping out as he touches himself slowly, building it up just how he likes it.  
  
“Tell me what you want me to do,” Hikaru goes on, the drastic language switch sending Inoo’s nerves ablaze because now he can understand  _everything_ . “Tell me, in English, what you want me to do to  _you_ . You like my fingers, right? What do you want me to do with them?”  
  
Now Keito moans, so low that it vibrates Inoo’s ear, and Keito’s next words are almost drowned out by his gasps for breath. Inoo had no idea that Hikaru and Keito were into anything like this, let alone that Hikaru would be open to let Inoo listen in on them, so unconditionally accepting of Inoo’s unconventional preferences and willing to adhere to them.   
  
Then Keito slips into Japanese and Inoo has the squeeze the base of his cock not to finish. Keito is practically speaking Inoo’s mind, telling Hikaru now nice and big those fingers are and how much Keito wants them inside him. Inoo clearly was not prepared for this, shoving his pants all the way off in a huff of aggravation and banging around in his nightstand for lube.  
  
“You like that?” Hikaru asks, his own breath quick. “I bet you’d be nice and tight for me, too. I’d have to push really hard to get them in deep, right?”  
  
“Oh, fuck you,” Keito snarls, and Hikaru barks in laughter. “Why can’t you just come over instead of calling me? Nothing I have on me begins to compare to what you’re teasing me with.”  
  
“Oh  _really_ ?” Hikaru replies. “I’m pretty interested in hearing about that.”  
  
“You would be, you fucking pervert.”  
  
Inoo would have laughed at that if he wasn’t busy stretching himself, his knees up by his head. This part at least is easier when someone else does it, he has to admit, even if it’s not worth the rest of the hassle. Even so, he doesn’t have to tell himself where to go, arching enough to reach the spot that has him feeling the impact of Hikaru’s words. He’d probably feel Keito’s pain as well if his fingers weren’t just as dexterous as Hikaru’s from years of playing the piano.  
  
“Do you want me to fuck you, Keito?” Hikaru asks, and Inoo’s heart skips a beat when he hears his first name in that voice, even if it’s followed by the rest of Keito’s. “I can bend you over your desk chair and pound you hard, give it to you deep. So deep… _ah_ .”  
  
“I hate you so much,” Keito grumbles, followed by a loud exhale that was undoubtedly right into the mouthpiece. “Get the fuck over here now.”  
  
“Too close,” Hikaru gets out. “Just think about it.”  
  
“I  _told_  you,” Keito practically growls. “I can’t do it right myself, and—”  
  
“ _Keito_ ,” Hikaru moans, so gratuitous and loud and it’s the hottest thing Inoo’s ever heard. “So good, Kei…Keito.”  
  
There’s no way that wasn’t deliberate and Inoo can’t stop himself from coming, spilling over his fist that keeps pumping as his other hand presses deep inside himself. His heart is beating in his ears so fast that he can’t hear them anymore, just some distant noises that sound like they’re underwater, at least until Keito gives a big huff of indignation.  
  
“I can’t believe you are leaving me like this,” he’s grumbling. “Good night.”  
  
The line clicks and Inoo barely has enough awareness to turn his phone off mute. “You’re really gonna get it the next time you see him,” he says.  
  
“No kidding,” Hikaru replies, his chuckle barely audible with how hard he’s breathing, and Inoo belatedly realizes that he’d missed Hikaru’s orgasm completely. “We’ve never done anything like this before, me and him.”  
  
“What, really?” Inoo sits up a little and reaches for his tissues. “So you just called him up out of nowhere because I said his name?”  
  
“Basically.” He can almost hear Hikaru shrugging. “I didn’t expect it to go that far, but it was fun. I’d do it again, you know, if you ever wanted.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Inoo cuts himself off with a yawn and stretches as much as he can without actually moving. “I’m gonna go, okay? I’m tired.”  
  
“Wore you out, did I?” Hikaru asks. “If you think of anything else, or any _one_  else, give me a call. I’ve got a lot of stories to tell.”  
  
It sounds almost threatening, a tone that lingers in Inoo’s ears long after he naps and goes on with his day. Seeing both Hikaru and Keito at work should be awkward, but it’s pleasantly not. Hikaru doesn’t make any indication that anything out of the ordinary happened at all, at least with Inoo. He’ll catch Keito’s eye and ignite an incriminating blush on the younger member’s face, which naturally brings back memories that has Inoo dialing Hikaru’s number the next time he’s alone.  
  
“Yabu,” he responds to Hikaru’s generic greeting. “Your first time together.”  
  
“Aww,” Hikaru replies. “It was our first time with anyone, really. We were young and fumbly and had no idea what we were doing, but we just went with what felt good and laughed together when we messed up. It’s always been like that between us, you know. Only Yabu doesn’t choke anymore.”  
  
A vision of Yabu on his knees before Hikaru flashes in Inoo’s mind, those big hands in Yabu’s fluffy hair and Inoo’s already rubbing himself through his pants before he finds the words to speak. “Does his mouth feel good?”  
  
“God yes.” Hikaru’s breath catches, fueling Inoo even more. “Once he learned to relax his jaw, he could suck me with no problem, except that he would go excruciatingly slow and look up at me like he wasn’t doing anything. It drove me crazy. He’d usually stop to fuck me and then do it some more, letting me thrust into his mouth since he was so exhausted.”  
  
A faint noise slips from Inoo’s lips, but he doesn’t really care. Listening to Hikaru talk is just as good as spying on him and Keito, the images just as arousing as his voice. For one of the first times ever, Inoo wants to slow down and wait to hear more, make it last instead of rushing to finish like usual.   
  
“One time I came on his face,” Hikaru says. “He didn’t really like that, but somehow his indignance made it so much hotter. We hadn’t done it yet, so he got me back by pounding me into the bed. It was so good I was limping the next day.”  
  
The pictures behind Inoo’s eyes keep changing with Hikaru’s words, wearing down his resolve until he’s thumbing the head of his cock, barely holding back. “Fuck,” he gasps out.  
  
“Are you close?” Hikaru asks. “I’ve been saving something to push you over.”  
  
“Go ahead,” Inoo tells him.  
  
“When his mouth was around me, he’d swallow and make these noises in his throat,” Hikaru goes on, and Inoo moves his hand faster. “Then he would tongue my slit and—”  
  
The rest fades into the explosion of Inoo’s orgasm, arching clear off of the bed as he comes all over himself. Everything is fuzzy for a bit, then he remembers the phone and makes an inquisitive noise intending to find out if anyone’s still there.  
  
“Thanks for letting me hear you this time,” Hikaru gasps, and Inoo realizes he’d missed Hikaru getting off again.   
  
“No problem.” Inoo blinks at the opposite wall of his room, wondering what he’s supposed to say now, but then Hikaru asks him about something that happened in the news and conversation flows easily. A few minutes later, Inoo presses the ‘end’ button and goes about his business, just like before. A nagging feeling clings at the back of his mind, like he’s supposed to think about something and isn’t, but Inoo’s not too worried about it. If it was really that important, he’d know what it is.  
  
The next call is placed by Hikaru, but scheduled by Inoo. Hikaru had said he had a surprise, which should probably terrify Inoo considering his lack of interest in sexual things that others find enjoyable, but so far Hikaru hadn’t pushed any of his limits. Everything was over the phone, without any knowing looks in person or any physical discomfort. It’s actually the closest to a sexual relationship Inoo has had with anyone, and Hikaru has never even touched him.   
  
“If you’re not into it, just hang up,” Hikaru says casually, like they’re talking about playing a game. It kind of feels like they are, a first-person RPG where Inoo can sort of control the outcome. “If you  _are_  into it, tell me what you want me to do. I’ll be able to hear you, but he won’t.”  
  
“He…” Inoo repeats, trailing off as a picture appears on his phone. Hikaru waves at him with a toothy grin before setting his own phone down on a tripod of sorts, giving Inoo an excellent view of a bed. It doesn’t look like Hikaru’s bed, and realization dawns upon noticing the stack of cameras in the background.  
  
Inoo’s first thought is that if Yuuto was aware that he was being recorded like this, he’d insist on a nicer camera than Hikaru’s iPhone. Inoo’s nerves shudder at what’s about to happen and the circumstances surrounding it, eyes widening as Hikaru pulls a tall figure into the picture.  
  
“Oh my god,” Inoo whispers, and he knows Hikaru hears him by the way he smirks just before grabbing Yuuto by the tie and crushing their mouths together.  
  
Together they tumble onto the bed and Yuuto scrambles to be the one on top, pressing Hikaru into the mattress with a sharp roll of his hips. Hikaru’s surprised noise tells Inoo he didn’t expect this at all, those big hands clutching onto the back of Yuuto’s shirt as his legs fall open invitingly. It’s more arousing this way, the younger one dominating the elder, and Inoo’s struggling to keep his eyes on his own private show as he slowly starts touching himself.  
  
Yuuto doesn’t waste any time getting them both out of their clothes, moving at the speed of a mid-concert costume change, and Inoo hears an enticing moan from both of them as they line up just right. Hikaru’s hands drop to Yuuto’s ass and push him closer while rocking his own hips up in tandem, their kiss falling apart in favor of heavy breaths and faint moans that Inoo can barely hear.  
  
“Louder,” he says without thinking, and Hikaru’s voice instantly amplifies. Judging by the way Yuuto rubs against him, he likes it too, his long fingers drifting down Hikaru’s sides to his thighs where Yuuto gently spreads them. Inoo can’t  _believe_  that Hikaru’s going to let Inoo watch him like this, in the most vulnerable position ever, and something weird flops around much higher than he’s used to because Hikaru is doing this  _for him_ .  
  
That realization has him wishing it was Yuuto who could hear him, so Yuuto could be the one acting upon Inoo’s words. Inoo’s nerves singe at the thought of telling Yuuto how to touch Hikaru, being indirectly responsible for the way he’s arching and writhing beneath Yuuto right now, earning those noises himself…sort of. It would almost be like Inoo was the one doing it, but without any discomfort. Maybe they could even be in the same room—   
  
“Oh fuck,” Hikaru’s voice cuts off Inoo’s imagination, which returns to the reality before him where one of Yuuto’s hands has disappeared between their bodies, and Inoo has a pretty good idea where it is. “Fuck, Yuuto, right there, yes,  _yes_ .”  
  
Inoo is only a little disappointed that he doesn’t get to hear his name again, but the visual makes up for it a million times over as Hikaru thrashes all over the bed, his hair sticking to his face as he turns his head from side to side and grasps onto Yuuto’s arms for support. Yuuto himself is letting out these low groans, like he’s pleased at how Hikaru’s body is reacting to his touch, and for the first time Inoo finds himself jealous that he can’t feel that for himself.  
  
“You look so good,” Inoo tells him, feeling both embarrassed and even more turned on at actually saying this to Hikaru. “Tell him what you want him to do to you. Pretend it’s me.”  
  
That last part just slips out, and Inoo would be surprised if Hikaru didn’t instantly grab Yuuto by the shoulders and pull him down, kissing him so hard that Yuuto seems to need a second to catch up. He wraps his legs around Yuuto’s waist and slides his hands down Yuuto’s back, using his nails just enough to leave faint pink lines, and Inoo’s heart is racing because that’s what Hikaru wants to do to  _him_ , or would if Inoo would let him.  
  
“Fuck me,” Hikaru says clearly, breaking the kiss to lean toward Yuuto’s ear, but his eyes are looking in the direction where he’d left his phone. “Fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”  
  
Yuuto groans even louder at that, leaning back on his knees as he pulls his hands away and reaches for a condom packet. Inoo gasps as he gets a good view of Hikaru, legs spread and body visibly clenching the air where Yuuto’s fingers had just been. He’s sweating all over, chest heaving with much-needed breaths, and it’s hotter than anything Inoo’s ever imagined, engraving it in his mind to remember every time he gets off in the future.  
  
Then Yuuto crawls on top of him and presses in, just like that, and the moan Hikaru lets out has Inoo rushing to catch up with them, tightening his hand around his cock to simulate what Yuuto is feeling right now. He snaps his hips instead of moving his arm, fucking the funnel of his fingers in time with the pair on his phone, who quickly establish a rhythm together.  
  
Inoo can’t see the actual penetration and doesn’t really need to, their combined noises and the sight of Hikaru’s face more than enough to suffice. He can tell when Yuuto hits a good spot because Hikaru shudders a little, pushing back as much as he can to keep Yuuto right where he is. Inoo squeezes himself each time, forcing his eyes to stay open and focused, because this is the best porn he’s ever watched.  
  
“Hikaru,” Inoo says, warmth spreading throughout his body as the name leaves his lips. “Hikaru, I’m close.”  
  
Instead of replying, Hikaru reaches down between their bodies and Inoo can see flashes of those big fingers moving up and down, his breath hitching with each twist of his wrist. Yuuto gets louder as well, his thrusts becoming less fluid and more twitchy with each passing second.  
  
“Come with me,” Hikaru says, and Inoo makes it until Hikaru throws his head back before finally closing his eyes, giving in to his own pleasure and feeling it wash over him once again. It’s more intense than any orgasm he’d had before, knocking him out so long that Yuuto’s already up and halfway dressed by the time he comes back.   
  
Hikaru hasn’t moved, just stretched out his legs as he sprawls across Yuuto’s bed like he belongs there, naked and sweaty with come on his chest and his hair splayed all over Yuuto’s pillow. He’s panting for air and it’s the first time Inoo wishes he was actually there, if just to feel Hikaru’s heart beat as wildly as his own. Maybe clean him up a bit, fix his hair, hold him until the aftershocks stop…   
  
Inoo clicks his phone off and drops it on the bed in front of him, blinking like it will help clear his mind as well as his vision. Predictably it does nothing to stop the images behind his eyes, the curse of having such an active imagination that is now showing him and Hikaru sitting together, laughing together, kissing—   
  
“No,” Inoo says aloud, glaring at his phone like this is all its fault. “I can’t like Hikaru. Hikaru likes sex. I just saw it for myself.”  
  
Nobody should feel this frustrated after getting off, but Inoo’s frowning as he brings his hands to his face and tries to rub it away. Naturally that doesn’t work, and he barely sleeps for two days before he has to work with Jump and confronts Hikaru in the parking lot.  
  
“Why?” he asks, his heart beating faster than it usually does with his clothes on. “Why did you do that for me?”  
  
Hikaru meets his eyes, which has a much greater effect when it’s not just on a screen, and Inoo’s tension starts to melt away at the first hint of a smile. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I like you.”  
  
This time Inoo’s blink is expected to fix his hearing. “What?”  
  
“You heard me,” Hikaru tells him. “I don’t know how to make it any clearer.”  
  
“But you were with two other people,” Inoo points out.   
  
“Because you wanted me to be,” Hikaru clarifies. “You liked it, right? I saw the time count on the call—you didn’t hang up until we were done. Probably a good thing, since the afterwards is always awkward anyway. At least for spectators.”  
  
He says this with the air of someone who’s done this a lot, which has Inoo thinking about Hikaru watching others and he has to shake himself to focus on what’s important here. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”  
  
Hikaru looks like he wants to reach out and touch Inoo, but thinks better of it and just stares right into his eyes. “I. Like. You. I’ll do anything with anyone if you want me to, or nothing with no one. I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, show you whatever you want to see.”  
  
“Even if you can never actually do those things to me?” Inoo asks, his body completely wrecked with anxiety at the thought. “I’ve tried, Hikaru, but it just doesn’t work. I don’t want to disappoint you—”  
  
“Stop right there,” Hikaru interrupts, and Inoo falls silent, grateful at not having to try and explain himself anymore. “I don’t care, okay? I knew going into this that you don’t like it and I’m fine with that. There’s a million other things we can do. Or not do. It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re involved.”  
  
Inoo takes a moment to sort out his feelings, which he’s not used to at all. His heart is really happy, because the person he likes likes him back and is willing to put up with his aversion toward physical contact. On the other hand, his brain reminds him that Hikaru has no idea what he’s getting himself into and will probably come to resent Inoo just like the others.   
  
“Stop thinking so much,” Hikaru breaks through his internal debate. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you concentrate so hard before.”  
  
“Nothing has been this important,” Inoo confesses, and Hikaru smiles again. “You’re really okay with not touching me?”  
  
“Can I touch your hand?” Hikaru asks.   
  
Inoo lifts his hand and gives Hikaru a bewildered look. “Yes?”  
  
He jumps when Hikaru steps forward, clasping Inoo’s hand in his own big one and somehow it makes all of Inoo’s tension melt away. Hikaru watches him carefully, but Inoo just grins as his mind becomes empty and all he feels is happiness.   
  
“As long as I can do this, I’m satisfied,” Hikaru says, and the squeeze he gives Inoo’s hand is better than any orgasm.


End file.
